He almost told her that he could manage. The words were already forming, a familiar defense against anyone who might notice how poorly he had been managing since November. But then he saw the careful way she had arranged the bowls, the little pile of sliced potatoes, and the clean cloth laid beneath the bread.
He swallowed the words.
“Thank you.”
Adeline nodded once, as though gratitude were something she accepted without needing to examine it, and turned back to the stove.
The children arrived one by one.
Samuel came first, his dark hair sticking up at the crown and his mother's old sweater hanging loosely from his narrow shoulders. Grace followed, carrying her rag doll by one arm, while little Ruth shuffled in last, still half asleep and clutching her wooden spoon.
She stopped when she saw Adeline.
The woman smiled.
“Good morning, Miss Ruth. I believe I have a very important question for you.”
Ruth tightened her fingers around the spoon.
“What?”
“Would you care to help me decide whether these biscuits are ready?”
The little girl's eyes moved toward the stove.
“Can I?”
“Of course. But we must be very serious about it. A biscuit that isn't ready can ruin an entire breakfast.”
Ruth considered this solemnly.
Then she climbed onto the chair Adeline pulled out for her and peered at the pan.
Caleb watched from the doorway.
It was such a small thing. A question about biscuits. A child being invited to take part in an ordinary morning. Yet he felt a tightness behind his ribs because Ruth had not been invited to do anything with such enthusiasm since her mother died.
He had tried. He had tried to play with her, to read to her, to coax her into singing the songs Sarah used to sing while rocking her beside the fire. But everything he offered seemed to remind Ruth of the person who was no longer there to offer it.
Adeline did not seem to be trying to replace anyone.
She simply made room for the child to exist.
“Are they ready?” Adeline asked.
Ruth leaned closer.
“They smell ready.”
“An excellent observation.”
“They're brown on top.”
“Even better.”
Ruth looked up at her with an expression Caleb had almost forgotten how to recognize.
Pride.
“I think they're ready.”
“Then I shall trust your judgment.”
Adeline removed the pan, and Ruth watched as though she had personally rescued the biscuits from disaster.